


Changing Course

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of dubcon Fjord/Avantika, Other, Post Darktow, Widofjord Week, Widofjord Week 2020, heart to heart, mentions of Widogast Trauma™️, prompt: reforged/reborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Tensions were high on Darktow, from the Nein’s arrival to their departure. Caleb knows someone needs to go check in with Fjord. Knows he’d be the worst possible person to do it. But if no one else is going to...
Relationships: Caleb Widogast/Fjord, WidoFjord - Relationship, mentions of Fjord/Avantika
Comments: 12
Kudos: 107





	Changing Course

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I know a lotta people are probably gonna go Uthodurn and the whole paladin thing for this prompt.   
> Mollymauk: There was a whole episode called Refjorged.   
> HK: I maintain that it was this arc that set him on the path for that. Fjord did a lot of soul searching at sea, and he went through a lot. Gotta decide what kind of man you don’t want to be on the way to what kind of man you do.   
> Mollymauk: I tried pretty much every type of person there is to be!   
> HK: What did you turn down?   
> Mollymauk: Anything cruel for cruelty’s sake.   
> HK: Fair. And! I have a couple more things in the works for this week, but I’m deeeeeefinitely not gonna hit every day.   
> Mollymauk: Quitter. Drabble them.   
> HK: Nuuuuu!   
> Mollymauk: 100 words or less, go!   
> HK: You said no cruelty!   
> Mollymauk: For its own sake. This is for the sake of more Widofjord. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Lots of introspection and shady shit and trauma and sad men. Talks about abuse and such. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I could try and argue I’d treat the characters better than the cast so they should be mine, but let’s be honest. We love the angst.

A cloud hung over the Squalleater as it limped past the reefs of Dark Tow, more metaphysical than real... although some of the sails were still smoking. Strangely enough, for the crew it was more a relief than anything else. 

They had barely any food, no water, one mast at best, but they were off the pirate island. Down one pirate captain who would definitely have gotten them all killed. 

Some were still privately sure that the Mighty Nein would also get them killed of course. 

The Nein themselves were having... internal difficulties. There were a lot of powerful emotions being wrestled with, the sudden release of Avantika’s death being just the icing on the cake of a stressful fucking day. 

And for one person in particular, that cake would be a roiling mix. 

Caleb couldn’t stop worrying about it. He agonised for hours, wondering if one of the others shouldn’t go and speak to Fjord. To check in with their captain. Their friend. 

To see how he even felt about the whole mess. 

Surely someone else would? They weren’t exactly known for talking about their feelings, but someone would go and talk to Fjord. Anyone would be better suited to the task than Caleb Widogast. 

As the sun began to set, he began to realise that maybe they wouldn’t. Not that they wouldn’t care; that they wouldn’t know how to help. Wouldn’t know what tensions lurked under Fjord’s brave face, the conflict of feelings around letting himself be used, and seeing his user killed mere hours later. 

Wouldn’t know how to ask what Fjord needed, how to offer without taking. Wouldn’t even know to ask, if he pretended all was well. Fjord needed someone to cut through his bullshit so he could start to heal, and Beau had all the tact of a cannonball. 

And... 

It was Caleb who had sent him to be used. 

He owed the man. In so, so, so many ways. 

Steeling himself, Caleb made his way onto the deck and realized abruptly that he didn’t know which cabin Fjord would be taking. Technically he was their captain again, but Avantika’s room... there were bigger issues there than just the massive hole in the floor. Odds were good he’d keep sleeping with Caduceus, though none of the crew from the Mistake had officially been given rooms either. 

Hell, Caleb didn’t even know if the room he’d shared with Nott was still up for grabs. There hadn’t been a moment to plan, or set anything up, or do any kind of organisation. 

It’d happen eventually, they’d need dinner and to get shifts sorted out before anyone could sleep. 

And then it did. 

And all Caleb could do was stare at the lines of tension in every inch of Fjord’s body as he gave directions and talked like he still couldn’t believe they were alive. 

Jester and Caduceus managed dinner from what supplies the Squalleater had left. Neither of them had a spell to spare to create anything more. Some of the crew may have helped, but Caleb wouldn’t have noticed. His head was a mess of spiralling doubts and he didn’t even notice what he’d eaten. 

No one was doing anything. 

No one was helping. 

Finally he couldn’t bear it any more. Privately certain he was the last person on the planet that Fjord wanted to see, he still couldn’t let him be sucked down into that well of self doubt. Maybe telling him to fuck off would help the warlock feel in control. 

Maybe a little shouting would be good for him. Caleb couldn’t remember hearing Fjord raise his voice outside of battle, but it might be cathartic. 

And it was easier if he could phrase it as punishing himself. 

He owed Fjord a pound of flesh. The least he could do was give the man somewhere safe to vent. Whatever Fjord needed. 

With those thoughts running through his mind, Caleb finally found Fjord alone at the helm, staring into the night sky. For about the thousandth time the wizard nearly chickened out. Nearly turned and went to bed, to bury himself in covers and know that he was a piece of shit and Fjord didn’t need to be bothered by him. 

One look at Fjord’s vacant, pained expression was enough to soothe that doubt. Fjord needed something. And there was a chance that Caleb could be that for him, whatever it was, however small. 

It was the least he owed the man. 

He made sure to clear his throat loudly as he approached, not wanting to startle the warlock. Fjord’s whole body jerked anyway, just a fraction, but Caleb was close enough to see even in the lamplight. 

When he saw the wizard, Fjord’s face relaxed into a smile and Caleb felt about an inch tall. 

“Hey, Caleb. Thought you were gonna get some sleep? You were up all night last night,” he added when Caleb frowned, confused. 

Had it only been last night that he’d translated Avantika’s diary? It must have been, they’d moved so fast, been on Darktow only a single night. Enough had happened that it felt like a week. 

Caleb managed a slight smile and a shrug, moving to stand at the rail beside Fjord. Far enough away that the man would have to move to touch him. To decide to join him or not. 

“I couldn’t sleep. It was... one hell of a day,” he said softly, gaze darting out over the waves. 

The deck creaked just a little as Fjord moved to stand beside him, bracing his elbows on the wood. That welcoming smile became a grimace for a moment, his eyes going distant as he looked at the sea. 

“You can say that again,” he agreed with a low chuckle, just slightly too close to a grunt of pain. 

Caleb hesitated a moment, fingers picking at the splintered wood of the railing. He wasn’t sure what to say. What would help. What Fjord needed in this moment, but... well, it couldn’t hurt to start with an apology. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Caleb found the words sticking in his throat. What if Fjord didn’t want to be reminded? What if it was the last thing he wanted to think about? 

What if he repressed it enough to turn into Caleb. 

Just that thought was enough to punch the words out of him, barely pausing for breath in between. 

“I am sorry I used you to distract Avantika.” 

For a moment Fjord just stared at him, entirely taken aback. Like he hadn’t actually understood a word Caleb had said. Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to repeat himself. 

When Fjord spoke though, it was with a slow hesitance that made Caleb think he’d caught at least some of it. 

“Caleb... we all did dangerous things last night. Hell, we all did dangerous things today. But we’re alive and well now, and that’s what matters.” 

It didn’t sound like... enough. Like there was an undercurrent of tension, of something Fjord didn’t want to face within himself. 

Caleb couldn’t bare turning to face him. Cursing himself for a coward, he stared out into the dark sea. Fought to keep his voice steady. 

“We all did dangerous things... but I only asked you to compromise yourself with her. I never would have asked it of you if there were any other way, but... I believe I know some of what you are feeling now. And it seems only fair to ask... if there is anything you need. Any way I can... help.” 

Fjord’s entire body went rigid. He... 

Well, he was still far too wired on adrenaline to even begin processing all that had happened. So many times today he’d been sure they would all die. No one knew better than him just how wild Avantika had been, how dangerous and unstable. 

There’d been times in the night he’d spent with her that he wasn’t sure if he’d live to see the morning. Both times. 

He’d been telling himself that the rest of the Nein didn’t know about that first night. That only Caduceus had been aware of his... calling it a bad decision didn’t quite cut it. Fjord had always known he liked to ride the line, to push the boundaries of what was safe. 

With the pirate captain, he’d lost sight of the line altogether. 

It had been what drew him to her at first, that wild spirit, and her greater knowledge of Uk’otoa. It sucked him in like a typhoon and he couldn’t stop spinning. 

And then he’d realised just how dangerous she was. 

And somewhere under that curiosity, that intensity, it turned out there was a whole lot of fear. Who knew that terror could sometimes feel like elation? That the joy of flight was so close to the fear of falling. 

The very idea that Caleb might, that Caleb could understand what it had been to go to her room and give himself to her again, yanked viciously at every muscle in his body. His knuckles creaked against the splintered wooden railing, nails he worked so hard to keep from becoming claws digging in tight. He realised abruptly that the wood hadn’t just splintered, but that the splinters were biting through his skin and he shook them free quickly. 

Only then did he manage to look at Caleb again, to cast an eye on his entirely too rigid posture. The wizard could have been carved from stone. Not even reacting to Fjord’s sudden movements. 

It took an effort to force his voice under control before he spoke. 

He wanted to snarl, to growl and ask Caleb who he had to kill. Who had dared take his friend and use his body and put him through so much pain. Rage bubbled in his gut like lava and oh, he so wanted to erupt. 

Knew Caleb would shut down at the first sign of anger. Knew he’d think that it was directed at him, when all Fjord could think of was killing whoever had hurt him. 

It might have been a little displacement. 

Something easier to deal with than his own conflicting, complicated emotions. 

Forcing it back took all he had, but his voice was calm when he finally found the words. Low, quiet, gentle. 

“I really, really wish I didn’t believe you meant that.” 

It startled Caleb anyway, the wizard visibly jumping. His night vision was significantly worse than Fjord’s and he was leaning into that as hard as he could, doing everything possible not to look at the man beside him. 

But at Fjord’s tone he straightened and turned, squinting a little to try and see his face. His expression was hard to read in the low, flickering torchlight. Hard to read just given that this was Fjord, but they knew each other well by now. Maybe better than anyone else. 

He didn’t often think about the fact that Fjord was the closest in age to him. The half orc was so enthusiastic, so open to new experiences and cheerfully, youthfully vibrant, flushed with the joy of magical discovery, he could easily have been Beauregard’s age. 

Then again, Caleb had lost so many years of his life that he was still surprised by his own age half the time. 

Now he could feel every year like a weight in his chest, could see those long, hard years in every line of Fjord’s face. He managed a dry smile in return, knowing Fjord would see it much better than he could. 

“This is not about me,” he reminded the half orc gently. They certainly didn’t have time for all of his trauma as well. His was already long since past, set and settled and immovable. 

Fjord’s might still be shaken loose before it took hold. 

The half orc hesitated a moment, visibly conflicted. Unsure just how far to let the other man in. 

There had to be someone he could trust. 

Running a hand through his hair, Fjord huffed out a sigh and gave Caleb a sheepish grin. 

“When I’m... like this, it kinda helps to take care of someone. Reminds me that I’m useful.” Not exactly the best coping mechanism in the world, but not the worst either, so Fjord considered he was coming out ahead. He’d seen a lot of the worst in his years at sea. 

Just wanting to look after other people and forget about himself for a while wasn’t all that bad. 

Unable to stop himself, Caleb snorted out a laugh. 

“You’ve been having a good day then,” he teased dryly. It took Fjord a moment to work out what he meant. 

The previous day flashed through his mind. 

Being summoned. The fight starting. Running. Seeing Caleb fall. Dragging him up. Running. The Plank King. The boat. Limping away from shore. 

Yeah... It had left him refreshingly little time to think. 

A chuckle forced its way from his lips. 

“Not one of my best,” the half orc admitted with a reluctant grin. Caleb hummed back. Paused. 

A heartbeat later he spoke, low enough that Fjord almost could have missed it. Low enough that he could pretend he had, if he wanted to. 

“You are worth being upset over, Fjord.” 

The warlock sucked in a breath, sharply startled by just how much those simple words had felt like a punch. Caleb looked over immediately, ready to take it back, copper hair swaying across his concerned expression and Fjord should his head quickly to curtail any questions. 

He couldn’t believe he’d never heard those words before. 

Never thought them, in the privacy of his own head. 

But Caleb subsided obediently at the gesture, stilling once more until he could have been a statue. Watching the sea. Waiting for Fjord to process. 

Hell, even just that little bit of space reassured Fjord that he’d really meant it. 

Caleb respected him. Cared for him. He could risk telling Caleb how he felt. If he could just work it out for himself... 

Silence dragged between them, as much as it could at sea. The gentle shush of waves at the hull, the soft creak of wood under strain, the flap of sails. None of which seemed to intrude on the quiet between them. 

Caleb almost thought that Fjord wasn’t going to speak by the time the half orc broke their silence. 

“It’s... easier to be upset about things happening to other people. I don’t have to worry that I’m intruding,” he said softly, enough that Caleb had to move a little closer to hear. He didn’t seem to mind the closeness, so the wizard stayed. 

Fjord hesitated again, searching for the words. It felt... he didn’t want to be a burden. For Caleb to think him too feeble, to unable to handle his own emotions. To put the weight of his own shit on Caleb’s shoulders, already bowed with the weight of far, far too much shit already. 

His own words had already showed that. But... it would be so, so nice to be able to really talk to someone. To think he’d understand, to share the load. And Caleb had said himself that’s what he wanted. 

When he was sure Fjord wasn’t going to continue, Caleb placed a gentle hand on his wrist. He’d noticed many times how much Molly and Jester casually touched, so much freer with contact than either him or Beau. He didn’t know how important touch might be to a half orc, but figured it had to be worth trying. 

“It is easier to be upset for others because we do not blame them as much as we do ourselves.” 

The words sounded so simple out loud. Easy to say. Easy to recognize the shape of thoughts tangled like poison once the outline was there. 

Fjord found himself staring at the back of Caleb’s hand, the contrast of their skin. Caleb was so pale, almost ghostly in the moonlit night. Fjord could have traced the veins in the back of his hands half way up his arms if he’d wanted to. Just run his fingers up the insides of those pale wrists, feel his pulse, the tiny puckers of a thousand scars Caleb never mentioned. 

The word blame echoed over and over in his head. Finally forced him to look up, back to the wizard’s face, needing him to see the truth in his eyes. 

“I don’t blame you, Caleb. None of this was your fault.” 

A singularly expressive brow rose, thoroughly unimpressed. 

“What I asked of you was inexcusable, Fjord. That it was necessary doesn’t change that.” He made it sound so simple. Like there was anything about this whole mess that had been simple. 

The stubs of his tusks ground into his lower lip and Fjord forced himself to unclench his jaw. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. Heat rising in his chest, Fjord huffed an exasperated sigh. It was so, so much easier to fall back into his usual patterns of self deprecation. So much easier to tell himself that it was all his own fault, of course it was, but Caleb wouldn’t let him. 

Kept insisting on taking that blame for himself. 

A dark part of Fjord found that funny, in a twisted way. He smothered it with irritation. 

“We would never even have been there if not for me, Caleb! If I hadn’t insisted on chasing after Uk’otoa, on dragging you all with me into such danger, none of you would have been at risk in the first place!” He could feel his voice getting louder and fought it back under control. Hardly daring to look at Caleb in case he’d scared him. 

But Caleb remained as cool, as gentle as before. And as yielding as a stone. 

“We agreed to help you learn about your powers, Fjord,” he reminded the half orc gently, “you hardly kidnapped us against our will. It was not your idea to steal a boat.” 

The memory of that first fucking disastrous night at sea made a smile threaten to pull at Fjord’s lips and he staved it off viciously. 

He wanted... he didn’t want Caleb to condemn him. Couldn’t stand the thought that Caleb might hold him responsible for the fucking mess this voyage had been. He just absolutely hated the idea of Caleb blaming himself for Fjord’s mess. 

That the wizard might be beating himself up even half as much as Fjord was cut at his insides. His fists clenched on the railing, knuckles white as his nails dug into his palms. 

“It wasn’t the first time I slept with her,” he admitted when he felt he could control his voice. The words felt hollow in his chest and came out empty and cold, forced from him by Caleb’s stubborn refusal to blame him. 

Fjord couldn’t let that continue. Not until he knew. No matter how much the thought of Caleb’s disgust made him want to curl up and die. Certain of what he’d see, he stared defiantly at the wizard, breathing like he’d run a marathon. 

Like he was ready to fight. 

Like it might help cushion the blow. 

Like he could bluster his way into really not caring. 

“After the temple I went to her cabin. You didn’t ask me to do anything I hadn’t already done myself.” He wanted to sound calm, in control. He had a horrible feeling he sounded as desperate as he felt. 

“And did you want to sleep with her again?” Caleb asked quietly, and again the words hit Fjord like a punch to the gut. A copper brow rose, gleaming in the torchlight as Fjord gaped at him, all the wind knocked from his sails. 

It was a question Fjord hadn’t realized he’d been avoiding. It was so much easier to blame himself, to say that he’d brought it all on himself. 

Caleb’s hand was still on his wrist. He hadn’t pulled away, not even while Fjord wrestled with himself. That hand seemed to hold the weight of the world now; a grounding point when all of his certainty had been swept away. 

His shoulders sagged abruptly, releasing a mountain of tension he hadn’t known he was holding. With no force to push back against... 

No. 

He wasn’t fighting with Caleb; that was almost the problem. Even when he got louder, when he wanted to shout and rage, Caleb just... accepted it. Like he expected it. Like it was what he deserved. 

“I don’t even know why I did the first time,” he admitted finally, wrung out and drained from the sudden shifts of emotion. “She was just... so sure about everything, you know?” 

He found his gaze tracking those veins again, the little creases of his knuckles. Studying Caleb’s hand like he wanted to memorize it. 

Watched it squeeze just for a moment, warm and sure on his wrist. 

“Do you mind if I tell you something personal, Fjord?” The wizard asked quietly and Fjord nearly laughed. It seemed absurd to even ask, given how deep they were already going. 

He managed to keep it to a brief shake of his head, giving Caleb permission to continue. 

“You have seemed...” the wizard paused for a moment and Fjord chanced a glance at his face. He was looking out to sea again, not watching his partner, those fiery brows creased as he sought for understanding, “like a man searching for himself, while we’ve been at sea. Not just searching for Uk’otoa or your powers. Like you’re searching for what kind of man you want to be.” 

There was something almost magnetic about the wizard and once he’d looked, Fjord found he couldn’t look away. He’d never realised how much Caleb paid attention to him, even with all the others around. How much he noticed. 

It had never really hit him before how close their ages were; Caleb was so much more knowledgeable, wore his years like a leaden collar. He knew things about magic that Fjord could barely fathom. It was so easy to look up to him as a mentor and forget that there were maybe two years between them, if that. 

And maybe Fjord had a problem with seeing himself as an equal to any of the Mighty Nein. 

They all had these incredible skills and abilities that they’d discovered themselves, honed over the years into great power. Whereas him... he’d had power dropped into his lap by a big ass snake that he still didn’t remotely understand. 

He’d been a nothing before Uk’otoa. A nobody. Sailor Number 6 on a random ship. It was still so hard to look at the rest of the group and believe that they wanted him there. Respected him. That they’d follow him anywhere at all. 

He had been looking for who he was on the Squalleater. For who he could be, now that he knew more about these powers. And he had come to one conclusion. 

“I don’t want to be like her,” Fjord said fervently, fingers twitching with the desire to take Caleb’s hand. He forced the urge down, turning back to the horizon. “I’m still learnin’ what all this means, and I don’t really know where I’m goin’ from here, but... not like Avantika. I don’t want to put you at risk again.” 

Warm fingers slipped through his own and Fjord started, jerking back around to stare at Caleb in surprised. The wizard was smiling back, just faintly wistful in the torchlight. 

“I did not think you would, but it is nice to hear you say it,” he admitted softly, fingers tracing slowly across Fjord’s skin. He looked... 

He looked so gentle, open and vulnerable and relieved. So different from the tense, closed posture he’d had when he arrived. It made Fjord smile in spite of himself. 

Maybe Caleb had finally believed him. Maybe he’d convinced himself a little more too. 

Avantika had been powerful, sure. Smart, strong, deadly as a viper. Always so damn sure of herself. 

Everything Fjord wasn’t. 

Everything he’d like to be. 

Nothing he’d trade if it meant being that fucking reckless. There was something toxic about Avantika; it had been part of what drew him in, and what had convinced him on that first night that he never wanted to go near her again. That all the power over the seas just wasn’t worth it. 

Caleb’s other hand rose gently to his face, cupping his cheek in a soft, barely there touch that he couldn’t help pushing into. 

“Let’s not risk you again either, ja?” The wizard asked softly, and Fjord’s smile grew pained. 

“You’re not gonna make me blame you,” he told Caleb softly, watched the conflict flicker across the wizard’s face. 

“Then at least stop blaming yourself,” he said finally, meeting Fjord’s gaze with a steady, “and let me be here for you. For whatever you need.” 

No one knew better than Caleb Widogast where that road led. For just a moment, under the flickering torch light... Fjord could almost see it. Almost ask what Caleb blamed himself for. 

Why he was so intent on taking all of the blame for everything. 

But he was more tactful than that. And the last word... it stuck with him. What did he need? 

He needed the Nein to be safe. Needed to find that last damn orb and put his memories of Vandren to rest. Needed to find out what the fuck he was gonna do about Uk’otoa. 

Tonight... maybe he needed to fall apart. 

Shoulders sagging with the realization, Fjord turned his face enough to press a gentle kiss to Caleb’s palm. Wasn’t sure how long the wizard had been holding him, oh so gently. 

Fjord fucking sucked at asking for anything he needed. Luckily he knew Caleb would understand that too; another thing they shared. The smile it pulled from him was softer than the last, finally empty of everything but his own exhaustion. And his gratitude. 

“I think I need not to be alone,” he said quietly, his own hand rising to cup Caleb’s on his face. To touch the wizard back for the first time. 

Something in the back of his mind insisted that he was tainted, but it was easier to ignore now. Caleb wasn’t going to shove him off. The bastard wasn’t even going to leave him alone, apparently. 

Fjord really, really didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts tonight. Even if that meant not really dealing with everything that had happened. That it might not have been all his own fault... he still didn’t even really dare to think it. 

That had to be too good to be true. 

He’d dragged them all out here, put them all in danger, he had no right to complain that he’d been caught in the storm. But maybe... maybe he was allowed to not be okay. 

Caleb took a step closer, until Fjord could feel his body heat warming the air between them. It cut at his chest to see Fjord like this, to see such a clear reflection of what he knew was his own process. His own pain, writ large on the face of a man he cared so much about. 

“I am sorry I left you alone,” he admitted quietly. Couldn’t quite name it yet; whether it had been cowardice or uncertainty, or trying to be respectful. He’d known deep down that Fjord needed to talk. 

He was so, so relieved that Fjord had been able to let him in. To let some of that pain, that frustration, that rage out. That even in a tiny way, he was able to help heal the damage he’d caused. 

No matter what Fjord said, Caleb knew the part he’d played in forcing the half orc into Avantika’s arms. They’d all seen the damage as the weeks passed, the changes wrought in their friend by the pirate captain and the sea. They’d all known what she was likely to do to him. 

Fjord managed a shrug and a slight smile, leaning down until his forehead brushed the smaller man’s. 

“Jester kept me company for a while. Guess I’ve been worryin’ her.” 

Relief flooded Caleb in a heady wave that made the earlier rush feel like a trickle. 

It wasn’t just him. He wasn’t alone. The others had seen it too, or at least Jester had. And they’d all be able to take care of Fjord together, whatever it took. 

He managed a soft laugh, his arms slipping easily around Fjord’s waist. 

“You’ve been worrying all of us,” he corrected gently, relaxing when Fjord returned the hug a moment later. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it, he’d thought he’d been so focused on Fjord that he couldn’t have not seen. But then, he’d gone down darker spirals. Missed bigger things. 

Rising on his toes to press a soft, chaste kiss to Fjord’s lips felt like a fresh breeze. 

They were going to be okay. They were going to stay together. Take care of each other. And if this, these last few weeks of strain and tension and uncertainty, if this shit couldn’t tear them apart then maybe they couldn’t be torn. 

Part of Caleb knew the exception to that, knew that his own past would destroy them all in a heartbeat, but hell. He’d come this far without his past catching up to him. He could pretend that things might be okay with the Mighty Nein. 

Some snake god wasn’t going to get between them. Slavers hadn’t kept them apart. Caleb Widogast did not have to lose his family the way Bren Aldric Ermendrud had. 

His grip tightened just a fraction around Fjord as the half orc dipped his head to kiss him back, lips parting to press gently into his mouth. Caleb was so much more than happy to let him, to give Fjord anything and everything that he could want to wash away the previous night. 

They were together. They were safe. They were alive. If Fjord wanted to waltz along the clouds, Caleb would learn to fly. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I’ve got a bunch on the go for this week and Widojest week, which is starting July 6 because they hate me personally, so wish me luck! And as always, Black Lives Matter, fuck police brutality, trans rights, drop kick bigots out of your space.


End file.
